Madness
by anneka59
Summary: A short description of what the voyage into Giruvegan might have been like. No explicit romance, but there are hints of Vaan/Penelo and blatant suggestions of at least a one sided Basch/Ashe. Rated for miniscule violence and an overall angsty tone.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The world of Final Fantasy XII and all it's inhabitants belong to Square Enix. My obsession with one character in particular belongs to me. (Though they should really recieve credit for that as well.)

A/N: This is a random story that was inspired by the tedious journey through Giruvegan in the game. Mostly by that annoying floor that just had to making a ringing noise with every step you took. That sound just about drove me crazy, thus, this got written. It's my first attempt at writing from Basch's point of view and I'm not at all confident that I did a good job, but it was a fun trip nonetheless! Let me know if you like it, and if his voice is at all accurate, I would truly hate to make a complete mess out of my favorite character.

Also, I don't know if I made this very clear in my writing, but this scene takes place right before the party enters the Great Crystal.

Madness

To be sure, Basch has flirted with madness before. In his cage, accompanied by the myriad demons of his past and a silence that became something alive in its unbroken stretches, lucidity was something he forsook with an eagerness that might have been shameful. He had known, though, his insanity for the luxury that it was. When his brother again came to him, speaking of rebellion in Rabanastre and one captured insurgent in particular; when the orphaned boy and the pirates granted him release, however grudging, from Nalbina, it was a simple thing to anchor himself again in reality.

Giruvegan breeds a lunacy that is different, and altogether more dangerous.

It is the floor that sings under their feet, a keening that cannot be ignored even in the midst of battling fiends.

It is the mist that roils and coalesces around them, making him ever question what is before him.

It is the crystal looming, too vast to be understood, emanating a malign _awareness_.

It is the Princess Ashe, oblivious to warnings or advice, to the increasing danger to herself and her comrades. Driven by the ghost of her husband, by her growing obsession with the shards of nethicite and their power, she presses ever forward, deeper into the ancient city. When he speaks to her, his words fall unheeded into the pregnant air. She will listen to nothing but the song of the stones.

It is a thousand different things, details great and small, picking at his calm and slowly increasing his despair.

"_She cannot love you,"_ his footsteps sing as he follows his charge. He knows, but still madness claws deeper. _"He will not forgive you,"_ they croon, and this time he answers aloud.

"I know!" His voice echoes across the cavernous space and all turn to him with a weary curiosity, all save the princess. Her disregard wounds him in a way he knows is improper. Basch shakes his head grimly and takes larger strides to catch up with Lady Ashe. The others reluctantly follow.

They stop to rest near a crystal, each sighing in relief with the momentary revival its blue glow supplies. Penelo takes advantage of the calm to spend precious experience learning the Cleanse spell. She mutters absently to herself of disease, a name he does not recognize falls from her lips and he wonders if it is the name of someone she loved lost to the plague. He wonders if he is not the only one quietly struggling to keep a grasp on sanity.

Vaan crouches near her to press his shoulder against hers in wordless support. Penelo shakes her head as if attempting to dispel her thoughts but does not pull away from his touch, choosing instead to let her head rest lightly on his arm.

Moments later Ashe is standing again, staring intently at the massive bulwark before them. _Wait_, Basch wants to tell her, _just a minute or two longer._

_The children must rest_, he could implore.

_Fran needs time to adjust to the mist,_ he could reason.

_We might lie in wait for Balthier's father,_ he could suggest.

_I am afraid,_ he will not speak aloud, and it is in denial of his own cowardice that he too stands and joins her. He is afraid of many things, Basch knows, but it is his fear that she will again ignore him that carries the most shame, and keeps him silent.

The short reprieve they experience in the empty halls is paid dearly for when the Tyrant wyrm crashes down before them, each impact making the floors scream with menace. Basch hoists his great sword and ignores how much heavier it now feels. He shouts commands to the others, fighting to make his voice heard above the roar of the fiend and the shrill bleats coming from beneath their feet. There is pain when his ability to cast tecknicks is stripped from him, but it is vague and unimportant. Far more pressing are the beast's massive fireballs that it flings between devastating swipes from its claws. Basch watches, mute, as the flames hurl toward him, too quickly for him to generate fear or steel against the heat, until a hastily cast Shell films his vision and deflects most of the damage. He gives a curt nod to a frantic Penelo – she is too busy shouting the spell for the rest of the party to notice – before raising his arms to hack at the monster once more.

Victory is hard won and brings little satisfaction with it. The party is breathing hard around him, struggling to stay standing as they watch the Tyrant dissipate in a wash of sparks and mist. When the waystone materializes before them, only Ashe casts an eager eye upon it. Basch chants the Libra spell in a voice hoarse from overuse and allows himself a few more seconds to drink in the mist around him. When he has enough he throws a Cura into the air above him and sighs when the blanket of green light covers him.

Balthier is swinging his head around as he holsters his gun, accusing every shadow of harboring his father. Fran is taking deep, steadying breaths and unstringing her bow with an expert's precision and calm, only the slight twitches of her ears belying her discomfort. Penelo is massaging her throat, sore from the mist that scalds as it escapes, transmuted into magick. Vaan stands with his sword clasped loosely in his hand, the tip of the blade resting upon the ground, and his eyes drift around with an alarming vacancy.

Basch surveys all of them with growing concern, and he _knows_ they should turn back and seek out the blue crystal again, if only to restore their depleted health and mist then immediately press forward again. He knows this, but he glances back toward the princess, allows his gaze to settle on her with something more than duty or loyalty coloring it.

She is in front of the waystone, one hand poised to touch it with the other resting elegantly on the hilt of her katana. She turns, impatient, and swipes an errant lock of hair out of her eyes before glaring at the others around her.

"Shall we continue forth?"

She is flushed with the efforts of battle and her eyes glint with obsession and there is an ugly line furrowed between her brows from her frown. And she is beautiful, beautiful.

In this, as in anything, he will not refuse her.

Basch steps up to the statue, positioning his self across from her, and their eyes meet above the radiant crystal as they wait for the others to join them. A tiny smile lifts the corners of her lips, softens her features, and he does not know why she smiles. In thanks, in anticipation, in camaraderie? But it elicits a wave of emotions that uplift and terrify him at once and even as he fights to keep a neutral face he can feel the ties that bind him to her growing tighter, stronger.

Balthier and Fran have taken their places around the waystone, leaving the two children to follow once their destination has been secured, and together the four reach out to grasp the device. As the waystone releases a burst of power to engulf and carry the group to trials unknown, Basch wonders if he will ever again lead his life as his own, and not as a vassal to his stubborn liege. The question becomes immaterial as he realizes he has no desire to. He will follow this woman into the depths of madness itself.

When he opens his eyes to the orange light glaring around him, he understands immediately where it is the waystone has taken them, and how accurate his train of thought is.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Update? Buh? This is a brief glimpse of Princess Ashe's latter days of rebellion from the perspective of one of my less favorite characters. First and probably only attempt at writing Vaan. Enjoy!

The Occuria sound funny.

This is what Vaan thinks as he and the rest of the group eavesdrop on Ashe and her new spectral friends. They sound like Archadian spinsters that have a cold or something, but all high and mighty. Vaan wonders if Larsa has any aunts that sound like this, a Solidor biddy with nothing better to do than boss everyone else around.

They're telling Ashe to do something, _commanding_ her, and really they should know that's probably the best way to convince her to do the exact opposite. Ashe isn't exactly one for following orders.

Where did these immortal guys _come_ from, anyway? If they've been controlling 'the reins of history' for all this time, how is it no one has ever heard of them?

Vaan rolls his eyes and decides to leave off listening; he checks out his surroundings instead. He knows they just transported from that ridiculously giant crystal, but he's fairly sure they're not inside a big rock anymore. Is this some sort of sky city? If so, where? What country are they floating above?

Vaan turns to ask Penelo, but she flaps her hands at him before he gets the chance. He huffs at her, a little put off, but holds his tongue. For about three seconds. He's opening his mouth to ask a different question when Ashe sort of materializes in front of them clutching yet _another _sword she can barely lift_. _

"Ashe!" Vaan calls, and scampers over to her and tries to find out if she's really going to let those funny things order her around. Before she can answer, Fran pipes up, saying something about revenge. Revenge? Maybe Vaan missed more than he thought. He shrugs; Penelo will fill him in later.

Basch is voicing his opinion in a decidedly gruff manner and a tense moment passes between him and Ashe. Vaan perks up his ears at that, wondering if anything interesting will happen, but Penelo has to interrupt and defuse the situation.

Meanwhile Balthier's usual cool is wearing thin as he realizes he has been hoodwinked by his father _yet again_. Vaan hasn't heard the whole story of Balthier's past yet, but he's pretty sure that the pirate knows his dad is a conniving bastard, not to mention sort of a lunatic. Is anyone really surprised that _Doctor_ Cid led them on a wild goose chase? Vaan isn't.

They all grab onto the waystone, eager to get out of Giruvegan and back to Balfonhiem for, Vaan hopes, some much needed snooze time and proper, cooked, _food._ What he wouldn't give to eat something that hasn't been freshly scavenged from a Behemoth, or worse, a Vivian. Nasty stuff, Vivian flesh. Also, it would be nice to walk on a floor that _didn't_ whistle at you.

Penelo looks ready to fall asleep on her feet as they trudge out of the city, she keeps tripping over her boots, her usual grace lost to sheer exhaustion.

"Hey," Vaan calls to her softly, and throws his arm around her shoulder. She accepts his support, wrapping her arm about his waist and letting him bear some of her weight. Crawling through Giruvegan did not agree with her. Her hair is dull and dry looking, her skin has all but lost its usual bronze color and he could swear her shoulders feel bonier than they should. Not that he's always touching her shoulders or anything. Not that he would _mind_ touching her shoulders more often.

"Thank you, Vaan," Penelo is saying, her normally cheery voice sounding meek and a little scratchy. Casting magick did that, sometimes. And they had cast a _bunch_ of magick. Vaan abandons his train of thought and focuses on the girl tucked against his side.

"You okay, Penelo? That was a pretty rough time, in there. Nothing I couldn't handle, but still. You look worn out."

Penelo raises an eyebrow, managing to look skeptical despite the dark smudges under her eyes. "Nothing you couldn't handle, huh? Guess you forgot about Ultima already?"

A blush creeps up Vaan's neck as he flounders for a comeback.

"That was different! How was I supposed to know the Esper would go all Holy on us? I don't even get how a spell called 'Holy' could be so brutal in the first place. Doesn't 'holy' mean churchy, or something? As in not violent?"

Penelo is grinning slightly and rolling her eyes at Vaan, and he knows she's probably laughing at him but decides it's okay because she's smiling again. Vaan would never admit this out loud, but he adores her smile. Her expression becomes distant again all too soon.

"What do you think Ashe will do?" She muses softly, not wanting the others to hear.

"About what?" Vaan mumbles, he has been trying to smell her hair without letting her know he's trying to smell her hair.

"About the nethicite and the empire, what do you think? Weren't you listening?" Her voice takes on a mock exasperated inflection. At least, he thinks it's not real.

"Uh…well, you know, kinda."

"Oh, Vaan," the fact that she thinks he is hopeless is pretty obvious.

"Hey, cut me some slack! I knew you'd tell me everything, anyway." Vaan glances over at Ashe. Basch is carrying the Occurian sword and crowding closer to her than normal. Which means he's practically stepping on her heels. He looks like he has something he really wants to tell her, but doesn't quite possess the nerve to. Probably because she's got that whole _I'll bite your head off if you talk to me_ look about her. Seeing the two of them reminds Vaan of something.

"Hey, what happened between her and Basch earlier, just after she spoke to the Occuria guys? I thought they were about to get into a shouting match or something."

Penelo drops her voice almost to a whisper. "I think she saw Prince Rasler again."

Vaan scratches the back of his head, and takes about a half second to ponder her words. "What does that have to do with them two?"

"Oh come on, Vaan, you really don't know?" She twists her head to study his face. "No, I guess you wouldn't."

Penelo leans in closer to him, her pigtail touching his shoulder, and now she _is_ whispering.

"Haven't you noticed the way Basch stays close to Ashe, constantly watching over and protecting her?" Vaan wants to say _duh,_ that's kind of his _job_, but refrains. "And the way Ashe always listens to what he says first, and follows his advice readily?" Again, Vaan wants to say that's because Basch usually has the best advice. What exactly is Penelo getting at? Does she think Ashe and Basch are – _oh!_

"You think they have the hots for each other!" Vaan crows, proud of figuring this all out.

"Shhh," Penelo hisses, "Do you want everyone to hear?"

"Oh." Vaan glances furtively around. He's fairly sure no one noticed. Fran might have, there's no telling what those Viera ears can pick up. Then again, she could probably hear their whisperings too. Whatever, she's not looking at them so it must be okay.

They've reached the teleportation crystal at the gate of the city and Vaan and Penelo are the first to use it, what with being the youngest and most vulnerable and all. For once he doesn't chafe at that reasoning since it will afford him and Penelo a little privacy to talk more.

"Wait," Vaan says on the other side, "I still don't get how Prince Rasler fits in."

"Well, I don't really know either, but I think Rasler makes her – makes both of them feel guilty."

Vaan's empty look prompts another sigh and more explanation

"You know, dead husband that Ashe still loves? Not to mention a dead husband that Basch feels responsible for. It's complicated." Well, _obviously_, or else Vaan would know all this stuff already. He still doesn't understand how people manage to make such a mess out of relationships. Then again, he's still not quite sure how to handle his growing… fondness isn't the right word because he's always liked Penelo, whatever it is that he feels for the girl hanging on to him at the moment.

"Huh," is the only thing he gets the chance to say before Ashe arrives in a flash of yellow light and raises her eyebrow at the two of them huddled together. Basch is the next to appear and when Ashe realizes it is he who follows, her face goes stiff and she turns her back to him to stalk down the path toward Balfonhiem.

"You are both well?" he asks quickly, but doesn't wait for an answer before he is picking out the same steps that Ashe took, leaving Vaan and Penelo (not to mention Balthier and Fran) behind. Penelo gives Vaan a pointed _look_, as if to say _I told you so_. He can only nod his head back, there was definitely something going on between them.


End file.
